Belfast or Bust!: 2009

Catch up

Labels: belfast, england, food, fulbright, fulbright mentor, health, holidays, housing, mono, orientation, shingles, UK | at 3:31 PM

I am aware that I have neglecting this blog. I want to do something about it, but I also am ill and have very little in the way of both patience and writing skills at the moment. So, a bullet list will do.

A recap and update on events and thoughts since I have come to Belfast:

I have moved out of halls! Yay! If I feel particularly vindictive at some point, I'll write a whole post complaining about the QUB student housing situation. For now, I'll just let it go.
On the health side, I got shingles, a flu, hives (five times), laryngitis, and mono.
On the research front, I've actually found a novel that fits into my parameters where the protagonist is a writer who actively debates the use of females in his novels. Not only that, but I find it a fun and interesting read.
I really miss having a clothes dryer.
I went to Oxford and London for Thanksgiving. I was getting sick (feeling poorly but not knowing why), but I still had a great time.
The Christmas Market is open here in Belfast, and that's a lot of fun, day or night.
High heels and cobblestones should never come in contact with one another. No good can come of their union.
I'm trying out this food service called graze. They send out a box of fruits, nuts, berries, and sometimes crackery bits. My first box came yesterday and contained roasted pistachios; a cajun seed mix of pumpkins seeds, sunflower kernels, and linseed; a new world mix of banana chips, giant golden raisins, and macadamia nuts; and cashews. They're not huge portions, but the point is to 'graze' throughout the day on small, healthy things rather than take in larger, unbalanced meals. (If you want to try it, I have voucher codes for free boxes, and I get £1 off if you use it.)
Speaking of meals, I've also been keeping a food diary. It started because I thought the hives might be allergy-related, but I've been keeping it up since then. I find it quite useful.
I had a Halloween adventure! I dressed up as Betty Draper, carved a pumpkin, and walked around the city with new friends.
I have a ticket back to the States for Christmas. I'll only be there for six days, though, which seems like an awfully short time.
It turns out I don't dislike London all that much. I just didn't care for the London I had seen at orientation.
I wrote a short post before about Remembrance weekend. I spent that weekend out in Ballymena with Paul and his family. They were really great and accommodating and, as you can see from that entry, I learned a lot.
There was a fire in my apartment two weeks ago. It was small and did not require the fire brigade. I wound up with six small burns on my face, but everyone and everything is fine. I was quite fortunate, actually, as the fire was beside my computer, my external hard drive, my giant stack of books (no shelves), my phone, and my head.
Quorn is fascinating and delicious stuff. It's a mycoprotein-based meat substitute and they make some great stuff with it.
"It's being so cheerful as keeps me going!"

Remembrance weekend

Labels: belfast, food, fulbright mentor, language, northern ireland, rugby, sports, tv, UK | at 9:16 AM

Things I learned over Remembrance weekend:

The British flag is allowed to touch the ground. As an American, this fact particularly shocked me. Watching a royal remembrance ceremony on Saturday evening, I noticed a British flag being slowly lowered. I may have actually gasped a little when it touched the floor and was allowed to continue. After inquiring, I learned that there are not many rules regarding the flag -- it seems there is no set way in which the flag must be folded (unless to be used in a formal ceremony); there are no regulations regarding the flag's height in comparison to other flags; and there is no concern over which side other flags may be allowed to fly or hang.

Red poppies are a sign of remembrance for fallen soldiers. I had learned this in the past week after curiosity prompted me to consult the all-wise internet on the matter. What I failed to understand at that juncture was that there is an added meaning to the wearing of the red poppies in Northern Ireland. Here, donning it will mean that you are typically Unionist and Protestant. In some more politicised areas -- Belfast included --, it would indicate that the wearer considers himself British rather than Irish.

This one may seem a bit ignorant, especially considering I'm a bit of a foodie, but I learned what chutney is. I subsequently learned that I have no interest in chutney. Other foods I learned about or became more knowledgeable of: mincemeat, "fruit", Christmas pudding and Christmas cake, and turkey ham. The last one on the list also may sound a bit suspect, but, as I have yet to see turkey bologna, turkey bacon, turkey sausage, ground turkey, or a turkey, I felt I was justified in my suspicion.

The Queen looks quite bored when people sing "God Save the Queen". It is particularly amusing when she looks irritated at her husband is singing along.

I like rugby. I'm sure this should come as no surprise to anyone who knows the sport and knows the types of sports I enjoy. Though I can't truly compare it to either, it was a good mix of the spirits of hockey and American football. It only took a few minutes of watching to get the basic rules down and only a few more to realise that I was quite pleased New Zealand was crushing Wales. Sorry, Wales.

The rest of the world thinks that American sports take far too long. If a Brit sits down to watch a 90-minute match, the entire thing, penalties, injuries, and halftime included, better not take more than two hours. It's a near atrocity that a 60-minute American football game would dare take four to five hours to complete. Baseball isn't even timed.

British Simon Cowell is a wuss compared to American Simon Cowell. American Simon Cowell loves telling contestants they should be forced to leave the competition (all American Idol knowledge courtesy Joel McHale and The Soup), but he has not the power to make it happen. British Simon Cowell can enforce these types of comments through judges' elimination but has, for two weeks now, refused to do so, allowing a more talented performer to go home.

Other X-Factor/American Idol differences that were apparent having viewed only one episode of each: X-Factor judges act as mentors for contestants and, thus, have a stake (and bias, when voting) in particular contestants' show life; groups are allowed to compete on the X-Factor; as I mentioned, judges vote on which of the bottom two audience-voted acts will go home; only in the event of a judges' draw would a contestant learn who received the least votes; and each acts gets spiffy introductions before preforming and often has props/backup dancers on stage. In all, the shows are far more dissimilar than I would have thought previously.

The DUP and TUV are purposely homonymically named. Of course, noting this fact led to my mind being flooded with recollections of aspirated vs. unaspirated (which I always thought should have been "nonaspirated") phonemes and Grimm's Law, and I just decided to stop while I was ahead.

Babies often get wee pains.

Lingua Hibernia

Labels: belfast, language, northern ireland, UK | at 9:13 AM

I think having an American flatmate has kept me from taking on an Irish accent (I felt it coming on in the early days), but that doesn't mean my language hasn't been affected. Here are the ways in which my use of language has been affected by the Irish:

I say "wee". I also know the proper way to use "wee", which is not by or about a leprechaun.

I've noticed "jumper" creeping into my vocabulary. This one may have snuck in with the "wee", as in "look at his wee jumper".

I have long used the 'u' in words like colour and favourite, but I have become aware of my use of "programme".

I have been substituting 's' for 'z' in words like "publicised" or "criticised". I haven't yet begun referring to it as 'zed' on a regular basis, but it has happened a few times.

I have occasionally referred to a "hole in the wall". In case you're wondering, that's a magical place where you speak into a hole in a wall, and a fairy hands you money. Or, it's an ATM.

The term I have probably used more than any other -- and the one I didn't even notice in my vocabulary for a while -- is "proper". The first time I realised I had said it, it was a double-woosy: I said that something was "right proper".

To complete my exercise in language assimilation, I must drop articles ("went into hospital"), remember to ask three times before accepting an answer of no, and stop using that pesky Oxford comma (the most resistant of the three, as it is apparently the secret love of my life).

A comparison of unhealthy foods

Labels: food, northern ireland, UK | at 6:47 AM

Now that I've been in Belfast for a while, I have some things to say. Mainly, about junk food.

Kit-kat -- better in Ireland
Twix -- better in America
Funyuns/Tayto Onion Rollers -- better in Ireland
Cadbury chocolates -- better in Ireland
Sprite -- better in Ireland
Marshmallows -- better in Ireland
Potato chips/crisps -- better in Ireland (not just the packaging)
edit: chocolate malt balls -- better in Ireland; namely, because I actually like them here.

And here's one that's not so unhealthy, for the conscientious crowd.

Milk -- so, so much better in Ireland

So, for those of you playing along at home, that's Ireland 7 8, America 1.

Of a clandestine nature

Labels: belfast, fulbright, Hillary Clinton, housing, northern ireland, QUB | at 9:39 AM

Well, the event I mentioned in my last post has come to pass, and, if you were in or around QUB today, you've no doubt figured out what it was. US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was visiting QUB for a summit on industry in Northern Ireland and the relationship between the US and Northern Ireland, particularly with regard to the technology sector. She also had meetings at Stormont Parliament on the remaining terrorist (sectarian) violence in Belfast. Note: Before anyone starts freaking out about me being in a terrorist zone, I should point out that Northern Ireland actually has the lowest crime and violence rates in all of Europe. Now.

I was told I had to be through security by 10:30am. At every point, I was told, "Students are not attending this event." And, each time, I would reply, "My name's on the list. I'm to attend." They would check their lists and, amazingly, my name would be there! I found out later that only five students were invited -- the student union president and vice president, the two Mitchell Scholars at QUB, and myself. We were left to mingle with various business folk, which didn't work out so well. Many of them, it turned out, were being asked to speak in the summit and were nervous and practicing what they had to say on their fellows.

When it was time for the summit to begin, those participating were shuffled into the meeting room, and the Mitchell Scholars and I were positioned on the side of the room. Among others, I got to meet Lieutenant General Paul Selva, who was incredibly kind and seemed genuinely interested in my research and volunteer ambitions. Next, Secretary Clinton came in, briefly shook hands, and moved into the meeting room. At this point, we decided that we should head down to the Great Hall, where her speech would later take place, in order to actually have a seat.

The speech she gave was good. She discussed the strides that have been made in the past 15 years in the Northern Irish industry. Technology has boomed here, and NI corporations have actually supplied jobs to Americans. There are issues yet to be resolved, but the process is positive on the whole.

After the speech, Secretary Clinton gave us a few minutes of her time. She was pleased to see three students at QUB on two of the most prestigious scholarships from the US. She said it illustrates the positive growth NI has shown -- Mitchell Scholars can choose anywhere in Ireland to study, and I could have chosen anywhere in the UK.

Mitchell Scholars may also be bright, but they do not know when a picture is being taken.

In other news, it looks like I may be moving. My experiences with QUB accommodation have pushed me to my limits, and I delivered a long letter today requesting to be let out of my contract. I argued a bit with the accommodation manager, who first wanted to move me to another building. If I had only had one problem, I might would have gone with this option. However, I had a list of four big reasons I didn't want to stay, the worst of which was that I do not have electricity (again). I calmly explained that I am at the end of my rope. She is going to confirm that a student can be brought up from the waiting list tomorrow morning, but we have tentatively set Friday as my last day here. Hooray for greener pastures!

One month

Labels: acronyms, belfast, cohort, fulbright, GSU, IIS, northern ireland, PSTP, QUB, SE, UK | at 3:00 PM

Today, it has been one month since I came to Belfast. I'm feeling better, settling in, and getting used to the crazy life that is PhD. Looking at my calendar, I have only three days without something booked in the next month. Busy is not bad, but I'm just wondering where I will find the time for my own research.

I'm trying to do a bit of a front-heavy approach to the Postgraduate Skills Training Programme (PSTP), where we take personal and professional development training courses. My logic is that, if I get many of them out of the way now, I don't have to worry about fulfilling the requirements when I'm hardcore writing. I have completed 1.5 days so far (out of the requisite 30 over the 3 years), am negotiating some of my Fulbright events counting toward the practical hours (10 of the 30), and will have 6.25 days completed by the end of this semester. Those numbers don't even consider any department events that may count, and I know I'm doing a bit in the School of English in November.

However, today, I got to do a little practical shopping/adventure. Cristina (who is part of my PhD cohort), Cara (who is also in the IIS and in the MA Irish Writing course I'm auditing), and I traveled to the city centre to visit St. George's Market for the first time. It was fabulous! On Fridays, they have antique books and clothing, and Saturday is for fresh foods and handmade crafts. I hope to make it back next week to check out the Friday wares.

I bought the following: 1 bunch of carrots, 5 apples, 6 baby portobello mushrooms, 1 spaghetti squash, 1 container of stuffed green olives, 1 container of extra-hot black olive spread, 1 bag of ground roasted garlic, 1 bag of basil, and 1 bag of lemon pepper. I feel like there is something missing from my list, but I can't recall more at the moment. I am very happy to have a few spices (salt and black pepper just do not cut it when I'm used to my fairly well-stocked kitchen at home) and some fresh ingredients -- and to support local growers.

The next few days look like they will also be good. A professor (GSU), mentor, and friend of mine is visiting, and we are meeting for coffee tomorrow. I'm very excited, not just to be able to see her, but also because she is a huge part of why I'm here in Belfast. She got me in contact with the Irish Studies department here, she wrote letters for my Fulbright and QUB applications, and she never let me think that I wasn't good enough to get any of it. Last year, she also wrote the letter for my scholarship application to the Yeats School in Sligo, which undoubtedly guided me to choose a school here for my PhD. It is easy for me to say that, without her guidance and encouragement, I would not have even bothered applying for a Fulbright grant.

On Monday, there is a big event taking place. I'm not at liberty to actually talk about it yet. More details will come after it transpires. It is something of an honour; I know that I'm involved because of my Fulbright. It is just one of the ways in which the Fulbright has already opened doors for me that would be otherwise shut in my face with laughter from the other side. The event itself is a bit of a mixed bag for me, but I still understand the importance. So, wait on the edge of your seats for breaking news Monday afternoon!

A concise argument for Ireland's inherent awesomeness

Labels: food, northern ireland | at 2:52 PM

In case you can't read it (You can click to make it larger.), this is the back nutritional information panel on a bag of Hunky Dorys salt & vinegar potato crisps.

The allergy advice section reads as follows: "Doesn't contain Kryptonite. (but does contain Wheat (Gluten))."

The storage conditions sections reads as follows: "Treat Hunky Dorys like Gremlins. Keep them cool, dry & away from bright lights and strong flavours."

I rest my case.

Fulbright orientation

Labels: fulbright, northern ireland, orientation, UK | at 11:35 AM

Getting to London for the Fulbright orientation was, as is usual when I'm traveling, a bit of a chore. Because I didn't want to pay an incredible amount (and still sort of did) to fly, I booked a flight that left at 7:05am. You know what's fun about a lovely morning flight like that? Getting there on time for your lovely morning flight.

My day started with a taxi trip beginning at 4:30am. Which, of course, meant that I had to be packed and at the gate by 4:30am. Not as much fun as it might sound. I woke up at 3:45 (thank you, new alarm widget for my dashboard), tried to get as ready as possible, and dragged myself and my suitcase out to the taxi in 40 degree weather. This should be the point where you tell me, "But, Sydney, you do know it's significantly warmer in London than Belfast, don't you?" If I hadn't been going crazy about the whole trip in the first place, I probably would have thought of that. Instead, I packed warm layers.

The taxi leaves me at the bus centre exactly six minutes later. I always try to pad my time a bit, but it turned out that my lovely idea left me standing outside the bus centre for nearly 25 minutes. Why outside? Because my bus left before the bus centre opened. The bus did eventually come, and I traveled the 35 minutes to the airport. I had to pay for my checked bag (£16 each way) and go through security, which was oddly packed considering it was early morning.

I would like to take the opportunity now to address any of you who may run airports. It is extremely helpful to your nervous, frazzled travelers if the tickets you give include the gate at which their airplane will depart. I know these things often change, and I don't usually complain about running from one gate to another. I would like to have some indication as to which part of the airport I need to wait in for my flight. It appears that the Belfast International Airport decides on the fly at which gate the flights will be stationed. This fact meant that, once it was advertised which gate I needed, I had 11 minutes to run to the other end of the airport.

The flight was bumpy, the passengers were noisy, and I had a terrible pain in my upper right jaw as we descended. (Anyone who might know what this is, please tell me. It started as a little prick around one tooth, and grew until it felt like someone was chiseling off my teeth from front to back. It happened on the way back to Belfast as well, and I'd like to prevent it from ever happening again.) Landing in London was wonderful, as I've never wanted off of an airplane so badly. Of course, I stepped off the plane to find that my wool coat was already making me sweat. Lovely.

From the airport, I took a bus into London. I could have taken a train and cut the travel time down by nearly 2/3, but I would have paid three times more. The bus ride took almost two hours, and I think I might have actually dozed off for a few moments along the journey. From where the bus dropped me off, I took the tube to a station close to the hotel I had been booked into. I left by what seemed to be the wrong exit, and I was immediately lost. I had no map, no phone, and no idea where I was. After wandering for a bit, dragging my suitcase behind me, a taxi slowed down and asked if I was lost. I'm sure a lost tourist was a great opportunity for him, but it was also a way to make sure I got where I was going.

It turned out I was very near the hotel, and the taxi fare was only £3 to get there. I didn't have the fare in coins, and the only bill I had was a £20 note. He offered to let me out for free, but I felt bad and gave him what coins I had. He was very kind and, knowing that I was lost, could have taken me on a scenic route to get there. I wasn't able to check in that early at the hotel, but I was able to check my bag with the porter and use the free wifi in the lobby and lounge. When I could finally check in, I finished the last chapter of the book I was reading, took a short nap, and headed back downstairs.

Over the course of the next few hours, I met several of the Fulbrighters. (For future reference, when looking for Fulbrighters, go where there is free wifi. We will be there.) I had dinner with a few of them, but, more importantly, I had dinner conversation with a few of them. I was immediately impressed. Not only were they able to speak well on their own subjects (as I should hope), but they also spoke very intelligently about a variety of other topics. It must be said that a Fulbrighter that is a TMNT fan is definitely a friend of mine. The trip was looking up.

The orientation was off to a start the next morning, and we all got to know each other through an exercise called "autograph bingo". I was a little disappointed that my square read "Whose passion in life is Irish Literature?". I mean, it is true, but I was hoping for something more exciting, like "Who threw javelin?" or "Who has been on an expedition to Antarctica?". We also got to meet Michael and Elizabeth, who have been the saints guiding us here from the beginning. We had lectures, discussions, and a pub quiz in the evening. My team was called "The Winners", and the name came awfully close to the truth. We had to go to a double tie-breaker, and we lost. Valiant effort, nonetheless.

On Tuesday, we had an opportunities fair. Unfortunately, there didn't prove to be many opportunities for me without flying back and forth to England. No one I talked to offered anything in Northern Ireland. We also attended a panel, where we heard prominent speakers on economics, politics, social issues, etc. The topic of Northern Ireland was actually broached, and we were told that England just wants Northern Ireland to go away and leave them alone. This statement deeply troubled me, especially considering the period I am studying is the one that includes Northern Ireland's conception and inclusion in the UK. I'm not going to get into all the nitpicky details, but I think these comments were glib, at best. Later that day, we toured the RSA house and heard a lecture given by a Fulbright alumnus on Churchill and the "special relationship" between the US and UK. Though he didn't mention it, I feel like we Fulbrighters are part of that special relationship.

On Tuesday night, we decided to follow Kenneth to his favourite restaurant in London -- an Indian joint near Piccadilly Circus. There were 10 of us, including Michael's three children. We wound up in the wrong part of town (especially for the children in tow), and had to quickly backtrack to a makeshift wonderful Indian joint. Fortunately, the kids seemed less fazed by the surroundings than most of us, and we wound up having a great dinner anyway.

On Wednesday, we finally got to have some tourist fun. We started the morning with a cruise down the Thames. We got to, very briefly, go into the British Maritime Museum and see the Prime Meridian. My camera batteries decided that, since I was finally getting to take pictures of London, they would die. Here are the pictures that I managed to take. Our meetings were held in the Citibank building on the 37th floor. From there, we could see the entire city. I was supposed to meet up with my friend Dan, but our meetings ran long and I had to cancel. That night, we found an Italian restaurant for dinner. We were put in a group room in the basement with eight drunken nurses who had all won an award that day. They were fascinated by us, and we were definitely entertained by them. We hung out the rest of the night in Kenneth's room; I don't know that we could have actually fit another person into the room.

On Thursday, an optional day for orientation, some of us took a tour of the Globe Theatre and ate lunch at the cafe in the Tate Modern. I didn't have much time to spare, considering all the methods of transportation I had to use to get back to Belfast. I left as soon as we got back to the hotel.

I expected the Fulbright group to be bright and well-spoken. We're told that we have to be bright and well-spoken in order to get the grant. I did not necessarily anticipate the level of kindness, generosity, and all around awesomeness of the people I was to meet that week. By Thursday, I felt like I was surrounded by friends, and I honestly hope that I can continue to say that for years to come. We were told we were rockstars, tomorrow's leaders, and world-changers. Despite everything you hear about the youth (and the people that actively teach and shape them), I felt good thinking that my future may lie partially in their hands. And, a little scared at the sheer number of fart jokes I heard. Can't win them all.

Welcome to Belfast

Labels: banking, belfast, cohort, Dublin, fulbright mentor, housing, northern ireland, orientation, paperwork, PSTP, QUB, shingles, UK | at 10:10 AM

After the initial confusion and running about, I told myself I would wait to post about arriving to Belfast until it felt like Belfast. By that, I mean, when the weather felt like Belfast weather. I arrived on 10 September, and it is now 30 September. It has just now rained. 20 days of unseasonably dry and rather warm weather; it has varied considerably between wool-coat-and-scarf weather and short-sleeved weather.

As I said, I arrived on the 10th, and everything has been rather crazy from then on out. My mother and Aunt Deb in tow, we checked into our hotel and set off to explore Belfast. Unfortunately, the hotel was nowhere near the QUB campus, so much of that exploring isn't worth anything for me now.

However, we did go see Giant's Causeway, the Carrick-a-rede rope bridge, Dunluce Castle, Carrickfergus Castle, the Bushmill's Distillery, the reservoir in the Mourne Mountains, and a bit of Dublin for the fun of it. I managed to get some good pictures of the fun.

I checked into my room at QUB on the 14th and actually moved into it on the 16th, when Mum and Deb left to go back to the States. It's small, and I don't really care for the people I've met who live in the hall. It'll do until December/January. At least I have my own bathroom.

I've also met my Fulbright mentor, who is absolutely fabulous. I have since learned that I was the only Fulbrighter who even knew we had mentors, let alone had spoken to and met mine. He took us out to dinner one night after a walk by the water. He also took us out to the Mourne Mountains, which is where some of those great pictures were taken.

I did the international orientation for QUB and officially enrolled in my program. Like I assumed, I am not taking any classes. I do have to participate in something called the Postgraduate Skills Training Programme, which has courses in honing skills such as networking, academic assertiveness, personal marketing, and even Powerpoint. There are also some interesting ones like "Doing it All: Academic Careers for Women (Being a Woman in a Male Environment)". We have to log 30 hours (10 of which have to be practical use) over the three year program. Not too bad at all.

I met two members of my cohort during international orientation. After returning from London (which gets its own entry, lest you think I've ignored my Fulbright orientation all together), we had a department meet and greet. I got to meet the rest of my cohort, as well as the staff/faculty, the MA cohort, and the research fellows.

My UK bank account is set up, and I have received all the information about it. However, I have come to the realization that there is no Citibank nor any of its affiliates here in Belfast, which makes actually banking rather difficult. I think I'm going to open another account with Ulster Bank since there is a branch just by campus. I don't know what to do with the Citibank account, though; I already told QUB they could take my tuition out of there. I might could get that changed, but I'll have to wait until I actually have another account and all the details before I could follow through with it.

I've ventured out in the town a bit, but not too much on my own. When I got back from London, I discovered that I have shingles. It makes me really tired, and so does the medicine I've been given. I'm trying not to let it get to me too much, but it is really depressing that I have to come down with something when I finally am here and settled.

On the upside, I'm pretty sure I'm buying a TV and the whole set-up for me to watch shows and movies and play my games. I also bought an adaptor for my Wii because the little blips in the video and audio were freaking me out a little. Besides the fact that I definitely need to tidy up the room a little (everyone gives me paperwork!), Belfast is starting to feel a bit like home.

Who am I kidding? That makes it exactly like home.

Farewell, America

Labels: banking, fulbright, fulbright mentor, mail, middle school, northern ireland, packing, surprise party, UK | at 8:08 AM

Today is my last full day on US soil. I guess I should pack.

In all seriousness, I'm not packed. I have a mental checklist. I have everything (I think) I need in order to make the transition easier. I have been going over all my clothes in my head to see what I need and what can stay in a box until I return. I just haven't pulled on the zipper that opens the suitcase.

Let's move on to things I have done. I have completed the application to open my UK bank account. I sent it over about a week ago, and I heard from the banking agent today, asking me to give her my phone number so she can ask a few questions. I gave her my US number, but I don't know if she's going to call internationally or not. I don't know what information she needs, nor do I figure I can answer her questions if they fall outside of the realm of my name at this point.

I finished my term as a middle school teacher. While I was only with them for three weeks, my experience ran the gamut of possibilities. Hearing and vision tests, book fairs, scheduled computer lab visits, and the simple concept of having to walk them to and from the restroom all strained my attempts to make a schedule and stick to it. I learned a lot about the kids, and I even had to learn the protocol for punishment and reward.

I have now planned a meeting with my Fulbright mentor! We are meeting to have dinner this week, and I am very excited to talk to someone that knows the area well and can guide me in the right direction.

On Sunday, there was a surprise luncheon for me at my favorite Chinese restaurant. The room was full of family and friends, and it was a lovely time. I had already said goodbye to Melanie, Erik, and Isy the night before, so it was completely unexpected to see them at the restaurant. Nova drove down to attend, and I wasn't sure that I would be able to see her before leaving. As for my family, I had either said my goodbyes or had assumed I wouldn't have the chance. Seeing everyone there was a real shock, and I enjoyed spending time with them before leaving.

I also just received a lovely present in the mail from a friend! I got an email this morning from Cheryl, telling me that she had mailed my surprise on Saturday. When I read the email, I was afraid it would take too long to get here, seeing as I have been having some trouble receiving things when promised. Less than ten minutes after reading her email, our mail carrier knocked on the door.

I feel very fortunate that I have friends and family that are willing to go out of their way to make me feel special. Between the party, the presents, and simple things like phone calls and Facebook messages, I have been feeling very loved this week. It makes it a bit harder to leave them all here, but I know they're all looking out for me and waiting to hear about my great adventure.

My next post will come to you from Belfast!

have visa, will travel

Labels: advice wanted, belfast, fulbright, fulbright mentor, fulbright twin, housing, northern ireland, paperwork, QUB, UK, visa | at 3:37 PM

Several relatively big things have happened since my last entry. For one, my visa was approved and my visa-bearing passport has been returned to me. It takes up a full page of my passport and has all the official stamps and notarizations of the British Consulate. The picture is much better than the one on my passport. The visa is valid through January of 2013, so I don't have to reapply at any point during my stay in Belfast.

The next big thing that happened was that I have accepted a housing agreement at QUB. I now have a place to stay through January 24, 2010. By then, I should know if I will be able to bring my dog, Zoe, over to stay with me. Either way, I'll likely be looking for an apartment/family that wouldn't mind taking in a quiet, respectful, studious American 20-something. If this sounds like an advertisement, it's because it is.

I had a problem with the first housing contract sent to me by QUB. There was a miscommunication somewhere along the line (ahem), and I was offered a contract for 50 weeks. Given that I'm still not entirely sure if I'll be able to stay on at QUB after my grant period is up, I could not accept a contract of that length without fear I might have to break it. Luckily, I contacted the accommodation folks, who are still very kind no matter how many times I bother them by email, and they were able to adjust the contract. I may not have a large room, but it is an en suite! I decided I would spoil myself as a hurrah for getting the Fulbright.

I got the paperwork back from the vet from Zoe's titre test, as well. These papers are part of the requirement for pet immigration to the UK. Two things worried me when I got the forms: 1, the papers list my mother as the owner of my dog, which she has never been; 2, it has the destination as "Ireland". I am more afraid that the last one is more of a problem than the first. I can always say that she was my mother's dog and was given to me, but I'm hoping "Ireland" will work for the whole island and is not meant as a designation for the Republic of Ireland. After all, I am going to Northern Ireland, but I think it should say "United Kingdom" instead. I don't know who to talk to except my vet, and she's the one that filled out the papers.

We were matched with our Fulbright Twins this week. The Fulbright Twins Program is something I didn't even know we were doing; they match each of us will someone going in the opposite direction. I don't know what they do about the fact that there are far more of the UK-US folks than the US-UK ones. My Twin is a woman named Mary who is from Belfast. She is heading for UC Berkeley . . . which means she can probably offer me much more helpful information than I can her. I've never been to Berkeley before, and California is so different than Georgia that I can't imagine what kind of advice I could give her that any other American couldn't. She also seems way more accomplished than I am working my way to my goals, and the Fulbright is a major step in the process, whereas it appears it is just another in her litany of personal achievements.

I also received an email from my Fulbright mentor this week. I'm not sure of the circumstances that brought him to be my mentor, but he seems genuinely eager to help me. He is a businessman in Belfast and wants to meet with me soon after my arrival. It's going to be nice to have a friendly contact in town.

Meanwhile, I have been spending all my time (well, it feels like it) at the middle school. On Tuesday of this week, I was there for almost 14 hours; we had open house, and there wasn't enough time to go home before it. It's amazing how little time is actually spent teaching and learning in the 8th grade. On Wednesday, there is literally no class time: I take them to the media center and to the computer lab. It takes up the whole class period, and I just repeat the same thing three more times. I don't understand middle schoolers, and I kind of hope I never do. Two weeks down, one to go.

I have yet to really think about packing. I need to find out a few things, like if the DVD zoning is different there and what I need to do about electrical adaptors. When I was in Germany, I had some issues with the adaptors; namely, one somehow failed me and destroyed something I had plugged into it. Last year, when packing for Ireland, I grabbed the wrong adaptor set and had to borrow one any time I wanted to plug in anything. Any advice on these subjects, or any other little thing I might not consider on my own, would be greatly appreciated.

Visa

Labels: application process, fulbright, paperwork, QUB, skype, visa | at 8:07 PM

When I first thought about writing this post, this was how it was going to begin:

"Applying for my visa was so quick and easy, I thought, for sure, I must have done something wrong."

Little did I know.

The application itself was incredibly simple. The hardest question to answer was how long my address has been my address. This issue was mainly due to the fact that I have never resided in this house until this July, but it has served as my permanent address (my parents' residence) for several years. Getting a straight answer out of my mother was fun ("I don't know. Between two and eight years, I'd guess."); luckily, my father had a much better sense of time ("Four years and eight months -- is that close enough?").

I signed up for my biometrics appointment in Atlanta, had to change it once, and went through the process without issue. I got together what I thought was the necessary paperwork -- the visa application, the stamped and scanned biometrics appointment sheet, the sponsor letter from Fulbright, the passport-sized photograph, the visa letter from Queen's. I read through the requirements over and over.

When confirmation that my visa application is being processed comes via email, I learn that it was a requirement to send my passport along with the application. I did not realize, at the time, that the visa is actually attached to a page of the passport. I was thinking they just needed to prove that I have a valid passport, and I presented it for examination several times during the biometrics appointment. My passport number and issuing and expiry dates were on the application in many places.

To say that I was freaking out would be an understatement. Thankfully, I had a new good friend who was willing to listen and convince me everything would be fine and someone who allowed me to use a Skype account to call Ms. Elizabeth Hizer, the coordinator for the US side of the Fulbright. She gave me the name of a contact at the Chicago British Consulate, and my passport was sent off by registered overnight delivery. It arrived safely the next morning, and my fears were abated.

This is the point where my second post on the visa application was going to end. You have no doubt noticed, it does not.

My passport arrived in Chicago on Thursday, August 16. On Friday, August 17, I received a voicemail on my phone informing me that my passport and transcript acknowledging the awarding of my BA degree were needed for further processing of my application, and these things were needed in four days. I'm hoping that my passport had just not made it into the proper hands at that point because I have nothing else to offer them on that front. As far as my transcript, I cannot fathom why they would need this piece of paperwork, nor am I aware how I would know they needed it, in order to have sent it in the first place.

I rushed to the post office Saturday morning and sent off my transcript by registered overnight delivery. Given the four day requirement, I wasn't going to risk it arriving in five. I have now spent $35 more than anticipated on the mailing of my visa application. Regardless, I immediately felt relieved.

The sense of relief lasted until tonight (Sunday night). In the voicemail I received, I was informed that I would be getting an email, which would basically repeat what was said in the voicemail. I received that email tonight, and it was mostly what was promised. However, it also included a code to be written on the outside of the envelope when I sent the additional requirements. There is a little warning after the code that warns my application may be denied if the code is not present. Considering I did not receive the email in time, I don't know how I could be expected to give them everything they wanted in the time required. Hopefully, what I've done is sufficient.

I'm not feeling overly confident at the moment.

The tedium, the whirlwind

Labels: fulbright, GSU, interviews, paperwork | at 7:12 AM

As soon as I opened that envelope, I knew my life was going to change. Actually, I knew my life was changing. From that moment, everything was going to be different. I can't even pretend that I didn't sit in my car for half an hour, calling my parents and crying.

After I had informed the immediate family, aware that telling my parents and grandparents would mean the entire family would soon know, and the closest of my friends, I sat bouncing on the edge of my bed for about an hour. Posting to Facebook ensured that the rest of the world would get the news shortly.

On the next morning, April 15 (Tax day, for all you non-Americans), I was awakened by a phone call from the president of GSU's assistant. On the following day, the president was holding the first ever State of the University Address, and he wanted me to be part of it. Despite inquiring, I was not told what I was expected to do, nor what to wear.

Throughout the day, I received two requests for interviews. At this point in my life, having completed my BA and having my MA a mere matter of paperwork before it was also done, I was anticipating handling very different kinds of interviews. More specifically, I assumed I would be begging for others to interview me for possible jobs, rather than having others approach me with requests.

The State of the University Address went well, and my mother was able to drive up and attend. They showed me on the big screens, I was addressed in the speech, and I spoke with and shook the hand of the president after the event concluded. In addition, I learned that I was sharing the spotlight with two other Fulbrighters from GSU! Three Fulbrights in one year -- not bad for a moderately identifiable urban university!

I found myself in a hurry to complete the paperwork necessary to accept the grant. Namely, the required physical had to be a rush job. I drove down to Columbus to visit my family's doctor, but had to be back in Atlanta to get signatures on my thesis paperwork. The only real issue was the tuberculosis test; I wouldn't be back in Columbus for the test to be read by the time it required. Instead, I had to find and visit the Gwinnett County Health Services Department and have the TB test injected with no intention of returning. I, then, drove back to Columbus and had it read by my doctor so that the rest of the paperwork could be completed.

Between interviews, Fulbright paperwork, and the paperwork needed to formally complete my MA degree, it was a long time before I knew which end was up!

Belfast or Bust!

Labels: application process, belfast, fulbright, northern ireland, UK | at 11:05 PM

So, what is this about, eh?

In September, 2008, I began a US Fulbright Grant application to the United Kingdom. The odds of getting a US-UK Fulbright are not good -- there were nearly 500 applicants last year for 12 grants --, but my mantra was, "You can't get it if you don't apply." So I went for it.

I completed the application in late October. I felt a great sense of relief in knowing that the initial process was over and out of my hands. I was able to breathe until late January.

I was supposed to hear on or soon after January 30 if I had made it through the first round. I was told by a friend/informant on January 29 that I had indeed made it. However, just days before, my advisor for the application process emailed me, concerned that my undergraduate email address was returning messages to her. I soon learned that my undergraduate university eliminated all alumni accounts, and I no longer could access it. Frantically, I emailed the only contact I had at IIE (Institute of International Education) for help. Nothing. Over two weeks later, I finally got in touch with him, and he gave me another person's information and told me to write her. Within 10 minutes, I had a reply, including the official word that I was, indeed, a semi-finalist.

Nine days later, as I was ignoring most of life to finish my thesis review draft, I received a phone call informing me that I had made the short list. She organized a phone interview for five days later. This is the point at which I truly began to freak out.

I tried preparing talking points for the interview. I tried anticipating what I would be asked. I tried practicing speaking slowly, which is a big issue for me, not just when I am nervous. I checked that my phone had reception for over an hour before our scheduled time. I even parked myself into my bedroom window where I have the most reliable reception, just in case the sky suddenly turned grey and most cell phone signals were thwarted.

The call came in four minutes late. No big deal, right? Those were the longest four minutes of my life. When the call did come, I could only hear my own voice. The call was terminated. It took six minutes for them to call back. I honestly thought I was going to cry. Technological problems were going to keep me from getting my grant? In those six minutes, I actually thought that I would fly to London if the phone situation didn't get any better.

But, it did. And the interview went well. They didn't ask a single question I anticipated, and I really had to think on my feet. What is one thing that is happening in the UK right now that excites you? I am a historian as much as a literary critic -- do I even know anything that is going on now? Think ahead a few minutes. What will be the one think you wish you had told us about you and your research that you will forget to share? If future-me has forgotten, how will present-me already know? Don't you understand the future-perfect tense? All in all, I managed to portray some semblance of brilliance, as the call was ended with: "In about four minutes, I think you will be jumping up and down when you realize just how marvelously you have performed in this interview." I'll take it.

The interviewers left me with a book recommendation and the comforting notion that they would be making a decision within a few days. I should look out for notification of acceptance.

A month later, I'm more nervous than ever. Each day that passes is one more that I am not a Fulbrighter. Maybe they told the recipients and are waiting to tell alternates and those who aren't offered anything. Even though I got such good feedback from my interview, maybe I was the first call and everyone else wowed them far more. Maybe they have my email address wrong again? Maybe they already offered me a grant and rescinded it because I didn't accept quickly enough? Maybe an email went into my spam folder and deleted itself?

On April 14, I arrive back home after housesitting for and visiting with my parents. I had a big stack of mail waiting in my box; I couldn't tell you what all was there, but it was. IT. A big envelope with the return address listed as Institute for International Education. And it was good.

Labels

Blog Archive